


The strong One

by justanothermaniac



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Lila and Zack are pieces of shit, M/M, Physical Abuse, Sibling Incest, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 01:02:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19937449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanothermaniac/pseuds/justanothermaniac
Summary: "I know you like to pretend that you're invincible but you're not."He wants to be.





	The strong One

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sad so this happened. WELLL.
> 
> But aside from that, as you guys probably already know if you read some of my other fics, in the Wholesome AU (AU where Jerome and Miah grow up together in the circus and are basically soul mates LIKE THEY SHOULD BE), Jerome is the one who takes most of the abuse, both physically and emotionally. He takes it and manages to be his wonderful self but I wondered...what if sometimes, the facade crumbles and he breaks down? I imagine it wouldn't happen very often but I'm pretty sure it would happen once in a while. It's gotta be hard, having to be the strong one all the time. Well, not that he HAS to be but he tries to be, for his baby brother. 
> 
> In short, I think about these two way too much. 
> 
> Anyway. 
> 
> I rewrote the last half of this about five fucking times and I just can't seem to get Jerome's struggle right. Idk why, writing Jeremiah breaking down always comes pretty easily for me but Jerome was real hard to do for some reason. I decided to post it anyway because I do enjoy the idea, however, I sincerely ask for you guys' opinion and if you have any advice at all, PLEASE THROW IT AT ME. I'm all ears.
> 
> On a sidenote, I have no idea how long it takes until you run out of oxygen inside a trunk, couldn't find anything on the net and I gotta be honest, I'm not really keen on doing a self experiment, if you catch my drift.
> 
> Okay, I gotta stop saying things like that, it's not funny at all. But like I said, I'm sad and say stupid shit when I'm sad.
> 
> Granted, I always say stupid shit.
> 
> ANYWAY. 
> 
> I wish you all a great day, my lovelies!
> 
> \- jam 💙

When the door clicks open, Jerome lets his head lol to the side. He coughs, his throat as dry as he imagines a desert would be and he squeezes his eyes shut, the sunlight burning.

Uncle Zack doesn't say a word but Jerome knows its him. He can smell it, the nauseating stench of cigarettes and cheap booze, underlined by his own odor, a mix of sweat and gravy. Lifting an arm above his head, Jerome squints, forcing his aching limbs to move as he sits up in the trunk. He takes a moment to breathe in the fresh air, arches his back and rolls his shoulders, his bones popping. "Good morning, sunshine", he whispers to himself, his voice raspy. Talking hurts, he realizes, so he settles with groaning as he heaves himself out of his uncle's car. He's nowhere to be seen when Jerome's bare feet land on the grass and he prefers it that way.

Stretching again, he holds his head with one hand as he starts walking, dizzy from dehydration and lack of oxygen. His shirt and shorts are soaked from sweat and stick to his body. He needs some water. Or an ice cold beer. And definitely a smoke, but also a shower. He wonders if there's a way he could smoke inside the shower. It wouldn't be the craziest thing he's tried.

He walks towards the circus camp. It's only a few feet away from the car but to Jerome, it seems like miles. He coughs again, squeezing through the path in between two trailers (he doesn't know whose trailers they are and frankly, he doesn't give a fuck). Taking a sharp left turn, he spots a very familiar trailer and his eyes light up when he sees who's apparently been waiting for him there. "'sup, brother dearest?"

Jeremiah's sitting on one of the chairs outside, a sketchbook in his lap, chewing on the edge of his pencil. He looks gorgeous, but horribly so. His hair is tousled, which Jerome loves but it means that his twin hasn't been sleeping due to nerves. He tends to run his hands through his hair when he's nervous or upset, going as far as gripping them so hard that he digs his nails into his scalp. Jerome doesn't like it. Although he really can't blame him.

His twin has looked up at the sound of his voice, his eyes growing almost comically large behind his glasses. It would be adorable if it weren't for the heavy bags under his eyes. Jerome's heart gives a little sting but he manages to smile, sending Jeremiah a wink.

The younger twin jumps to his feet and rushes to his side immediately. "Hug ya later, please", Jerome mutters, "I'm gross and it feels like I got run over." Jeremiah settles with wrapping an arm around Jerome's waist, hooking Jerome's own arm around his shoulders to steady him.

The older twin hums gratefully and presses a sloppy kiss to Jeremiah's temple. "Sit down, I'll go get you some water", Jeremiah says hastily, dumping Jerome in the chair as gently as dumping someone can be. He immediately leans back, stretching out his legs. "Literal angel", he calls after his brother who dashed up the trailer stairs as soon as Jerome was seated. He closes his eyes and coughs again, reaching for the pack of cigarettes on the table anyway.

As he blindly pulls one out to put it between his lips, he hears Jeremiah come down again and, as he should've expected, the cigarette is quickly snatched from his lips. "Oh, no, you don't", his twin scolds and Jerome cracks his eyes open. "I take it back", he grumbles, taking the offered glass from Jeremiah and downing the water in one go. His throat is dancing with joy and when he blinks his eyes open to see his brother holding something out to him in his other hand as well, his face lights up.

"I take back that I took it back", he breathes out, snatching the beer from his twin and popping the can open. "Literal fucking angel."

He gulps down about half of if before he puts the can on the small table, taking several deep breaths. "I'm going to smoke that cigarette now though", he murmurs his eyes closed, "Don't try to stop me, I'll bite you."

Jeremiah doesn't reply, he doesn't even grant him a laugh, or at the very least a giggle. Jerome opens his eyes with a frown. His twin is still standing before him, a hand in his hair, the other pulling at the hem of his shirt nervously.

Jerome sighs, putting said cigarette between his lips before reaching out and taking Jeremiah's hand in his own. "Calm down, twitchy. Few hours in a stupid trunk ain't enough to bring your big bro down."

Jeremiah exhales slowly, nodding. "I know that", he whispers and Jerome squeezes his hand. "Quit sulking then and park your ass in that chair. Tell me what I missed the last few hours. What time is it, anyway?", he asks, letting go of Jeremiah's hand and reaching for the lighter. His twin sighs and moves to sit down in the chair on the other side of the table. "It's about six in the morning. You were in the trunk for about two hours", he explains in a hushed tone and Jerome whistles. "Two hours? Uncle Zack's gone soft for me", he snickers, practically feeling Jeremiah's glare burning on his skin.

"It's summer. You know what could happen."

Jerome sighs. "Yeah, I know. But hey! Still here, still kickin'." He takes a deep pull from the cigarette, closing his eyes as he exhales. "Where's the whore?", he asks nonchalantly, knowing without a doubt that his twin knows who he's referring to. 

"Passed out on the couch some time after Uncle Zack dragged you away. And before you ask, he went to the pub as far as I could tell."

"How generous of him to let me out first", Jerome snickers before turning his head to look at his brother. "You okay?"

Jeremiah shrugs. "As okay as I can be, I guess. No one hurt me, so don't make that face."

"What face? You're not even looking at me."

"I don't have to. I know how you get when you're worried about me. Which is interesting, since _I'm_ not the one who got locked in a trunk."

Jerome shrugs. "Ahh, what can I say? I'm a handful. Or rather, a trunkful." He grins, wiggling his eyebrows. Jeremiah, who spared him a glance, really does giggle then and Jerome feels his heart flutter. "You're an idiot", the younger twin says, rubbing a hand over his face.

"I'm _your_ idiot", Jerome corrects, blowing out smoke in Jeremiah's direction. "Hang on, mommy dear's in a booze coma, our favorite uncle is at the pub...we have the day off, baby brother!"

Jeremiah's glare could burn through concrete. "We are not doing _anything_ except getting you a shower and into bed."

"You gonna participate in those activities? Because that certainly sounds like the perfect day off", Jerome says with a smirk, blowing out smoke in his twin's direction again, prompting him to sigh almost desperately. "Jerome, I'm begging you-!"

"Getting better and better!"

Death glare. Jerome can tell now is the time to shut up, so he does. At least for the moment. "You need rest. I know you like to pretend that you're invincible but you're not. Please, for me. Take it easy today."

Jerome doesn't like how Jeremiah casts his gaze downward. He can tell that he's trembling ever so slightly too. Sighing, Jerome puts his cigarette in the ashtray. "Okay, Miah. I'll take it easy, I promise. You're still showering with me though", he adds quickly, sending his brother an almost pleading look. Jeremiah huffs, lifting his head to smile at him. "Like there was ever a question."

* * *

Jerome groans and leans against the shower wall, closing his eyes. "Fuck, my back is killing me..." He feels a hand in his hair, and warm water raining down on him, prompting him to sigh in comfort. It really does wonders for his sore muscles. "I know", Jeremiah whispers, his fingers gentle as they comb through his hair, getting it wet. "But you have to stand up straight if we're gonna properly wash you."

Jerome hums dismissively but does essentially as he's told, pushing himself off of the wall. His twin's delicate hands run the soap over his shoulders and neck before stepping closer. Jerome leans into him, arms encircling his waist while Jeremiah washes his back without breaking contact, his free hand resting on the back of Jerome's neck.

Jerome pulls him closer, presses kisses to his shoulder, making the younger twin shiver a little. "Stop distracting me", he scolds, to which Jerome replies with a grunt. "You're in no shape for this", he adds, tone softer this time and Jerome absolutely _hates_ the fact that he's right. He'd love nothing more than to lift Jeremiah up, press him against that shower wall and make him tremble in pleasure. But he's certain they'd both end up having a very painful impact on the tiles if he tried. He can't even stand without support, let alone have his way with Jeremiah.

That's just depressing, considering they have a whole day for themselves.

Jeremiah has moved to wash Jerome's hair now, massaging his scalp while he does. Jerome sighs happily, nuzzling his twin's shoulder in gratitude. "Love ya", he mumbles against his skin and his heart flutters when Jeremiah chuckles a little. "Love you too." His hands leave Jerome's hair and come to rest on his shoulders, leading him towards the water. He makes sure the shampoo is thoroughly washed out before turning the water off. "There. All done."

He cups Jerome's cheeks, runs his thumbs over the smooth skin. The older twin has his eyes closed but he leans forward slightly, a silent question Jeremiah is glad to answer. Their lips meet and both feel a jolt of happiness at the familiar contact. Jerome's hold around his twin's waist tightens and Jeremiah wraps his own arms around his neck as they deepen the kiss, Jerome's lips parting Jeremiah's, sliding his tongue inside. Jeremiah moans into his brother's mouth, presses closer to him, running a hand through his damp hair.

It feels like coming home. Holding Jeremiah like this, having Jeremiah touch him like this. It's warm and familiar, it's like a single flower blossoming in an otherwise dead environment. Jerome trails his lips down Jeremiah's neck, nuzzles into the crook of it. He feels like he belongs.

Something tightens in his chest. He's suddenly very aware of how sore his limbs are, the dryness of his throat. There's a pounding in his head and Uncle Zack's rumbling voice hitting him like a freight train.

_Waste of space. I'd bash your head in if I could._

Jerome digs his nails in Jeremiah's flesh. He hisses in pain but Jerome can't hear him. All he hears is their Uncle shouting at him and then Lila's voice joins, shrill and piercing.

_You're useless, I should never have had you._

Jerome thinks he's falling, falling into a bottomless pit, surrounded by their voices, they grow louder the deeper he falls. His head is exploding, his limbs hurt and he's cold, so _cold_ all of a sudden. He hates them, he _hates them._

_You screw up everything._

_You're fucked up in the head._

_Your brother would be better off without you._

It isn't fair. None of this is fair. It's not Jerome's fault that he was born. He never asked to be. He can't breathe, he tries to gasp for air and there's ice cold fingers around his throat, squeezing, squeezing _tighter._ His heart is writhing within his chest and he wants to scream but how is he supposed to scream if he can't even breathe?

Bony fingers dig into his cheeks, sharp nails ripping the flesh open. His mother is sneering at him, laughing when his uncle grips a fistful of his hair.

_Die, you pile of shit._

"Jerome."

He sucks in a breath when the fingers disappear. His mother is gone, as is Uncle Zack and Jerome realizes he's shaking, his face buried in his twin's shoulder, his arms still wrapped tightly around Jeremiah's waist. Jeremiah.

_Miah._

His twin's fingers thread through his hair before he wraps his arms around his neck again and Jerome tries to bite back the sob, he really tries.

He fails. Hot tears burn in the corners of his eyes, spilling over and joining the drops on his twin's shoulder. He hates breaking down like this, he hates it when Jeremiah sees him cry. _Jerome doesn't cry._

His twin's sweet voice is like a balm for his soul but it only makes him cry harder. "Shhh. They're not here, Jerome", Jeremiah whispers right into his ear, "Just me. Just us."

Jerome pulls him closer, clinging to him like a child.

He's not invincible. He wants to be. He wants nothing more than to keep pretending that none of this affects him at all.

He can't. 


End file.
